Easter Sunday.
Mary hears those wonderful words, “Go and tell my brothers.”
Yes and Amen.
Easter Sunday.
Mary hears those wonderful words, “Go and tell my brothers.”
Yes and Amen.
Culturally I feel like I am ill equipped for grief. Grief and death are events to be wrapped by professionals and delivered in a short period of time before everyone is encouraged to get on with it.
I look at some of the beautiful cultures around me and how they enter into grief and death, how they sit in ashes (metaphorically) and how their community of loved ones enters with them.
This Easter I am trying to hold space for the grief of Saturday better. To not avoid the grief but to be present to it and in doing so to be more human.
These strange times we find ourselves in confront us with many emotions that have been able to be ignored in our usual busyness.
Below is a reflection to participate in – holding space for grief and for Jesus on this Easter Saturday.
I am always undone by Good Friday. Every year there seems to be something new to engage with and explore.
I pray this reflection will help you to come to the cross again with a new sense of holy awe and wonder.
May we never rush past what Jesus did for us and for the cosmos.
In their final evening together Jesus knelt before his friends and washed their feet. Though he was about to go to the cross he still loved and served his friends. May we too have strength to love those near to us in these difficult days.
A quiet meditation for Maundy Thursday.
This Holy Week I’ve recorded some reflections for people to participate with. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday I’m going to post one here each day for the next 4 days.
Each one features prayer, scripture and poetry or story and are accompanied by images by dear artist friends. They are about 20minutes long.
They are designed to be done in silence and reflection and could be integrated into your prayer practice. If you are new to reflective practice I encourage you to find a quiet space free from distractions and see it as a new way of praying. The music quality in this one is not great so maybe have a song cued that you can listen to during that part.
They are not without (many) imperfections. However, I hope that they might help in leaning into the days of this most Holy Week in these strangest of times.
A couple of years ago I did the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius with my spiritual director. I found as I set out on the journey to the cross that I didn’t want to walk with Jesus to the cross. I just wanted to be there on Sunday. It is something in me that still needs changing – this ability to enter lament, to be present to pain. May we all have courage to allow ourselves to enter pain and to receive love even there.
Miriam x
I don’t want to walk with you to the cross
don’t want to pass the jeering crowd
or be present to the lonely abyss of Gethsemane
I want to stand on Sunday’s horizon
and say
it’s okay Jesus
look resurrection will come
So, like the crowd I condemn
and the disciples I judge
I abandon you
on your walk to the cross
I leave you alone
so alone
human man
acquainted with suffering and grief
I really just want
the resurrection power
the triumph of the lamb
the roar of the lion
so I climb up to my privileged position
and wait at the dawn of Sunday
ready to sing my alleluias
where a stone is rolled away
and as I abandon you
I acknowledge I have abandoned others
on their difficult journeys through
death’s valley
preferring to whisper hope
from resurrection’s empty tomb
instead of being empty accompaniment
into the cave
where death seems
to have the victory
I am afraid of accompanying you
and afraid of accompanying others
I am a broken disciple
would you hold this unfaithful
uncomfortable hand in yours
as I attempt not to run away
to hold the course for
Gethsemane
Golgotha
and
tomb
for as long as my small strength holds on
It is the day
for earthquakes that
remove stones that
contained the dead
It is the day
to hear the words
Why look for the living
among the dead?
The day when angels speak
and mortals quake in silence
shedding their mortality
unlocked and free
It is the day to hear your name
on the lips
of the
Resurrected Saviour
A day to be embraced
but not to cling
clinging is for the ones
who have something to lose
Today is the day
when what is poured out can no longer
be contained:
to time
to location
to a people group
to a gender
to an age
Today good news for all people breaks in and announces:
HE IS RISEN
* May your Easter Sunday be filled with joy that cannot be contained, life that knows no limits, the embrace of the One who died to set you free. Miriam x
These are my current musings as I journey Easter-ward.
May it bless you, may you find yourself accompanied on the way toward the narrative of difficulty, death, vigil and resurrection. May you have courage at every part of the journey to wait, to see, to understand and to continue on.
Bless you – wherever you are along the way.
This Week
This is a week to kneel in Gethsemane’s garden
to feel the gravel push hard into thin knee flesh
It is a week for letting go
for sweating blood and crying tears
fear
surrender
mercy
It is a week to show grace to friends who could not stay awake for us
A week for others to misunderstand the gravity of what we face
A week to acknowledge
the heart wants to run
the flesh is weak
the journey may be intensely lonely, despite the thronging crowds
It is a day to kneel as light turns to night
to feel the touch of cold hard wind on skin
to long to stay eternally in this moment because the way ahead is dark and dreadful
It is a night to remember the One who knelt for me
that I may remember I shall never kneel alone
there is no pit so deep his love is not deeper still*
no chasm so wide he will not cross to make a way for me to come
This is Gethsemane’s week